


Grey Rain

by Abloodydistraction



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon Related, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Leaving Home, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abloodydistraction/pseuds/Abloodydistraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Above all, she will remain a warden.<br/>Thematic Character Study for The Hero of Ferelden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey Rain

When Alistair kissed her it felt as if all of the pain and sorrow of their journey came to an end there. She no longer wonder what there was left to fight for, she held it in her lungs, and in her arms. She would fight for life and all that it meant for not only themselves, but for all of her companions, and the people she met on the way. She never fell in battle after that night, and even when she was reminded of the hardships, the look on her mother’s face after finding Oren, her father’s smile as Duncan pulled her from the only world she knew, Leliana after killing her mentor, Oghren after seeing what his lover had become, Sten in the fade with the apparitions of his fallen brothers, Zevran when the time came and the crows pursued them, Morrigan when she realized what her mother was trying to do to her, The Hero of Ferelden fought on. Months passed, the archdemon slain, and with it, Morrigan disappeared into the night. Though she didn’t dare speak of her absence, Leliana saw the young warden, and soon to be queen’s fist clench as she smiled through watering hazel eyes,  
“I don’t know how, but I will find her, and I will bring her back.”  
The days turned into months after the final battle, once again the young warden felt loneliness despite being walked down a crowded hall by her brother, someone important, someone that should have been there, was simply not. Alistair gazed upon her as she looked lost searching the crowd. She looked towards him, and as if by magic, her worries became light and she smiled warmly towards the man she loved. The warden then went on, for months that turned into years, with Zevran and Sten as she promised to travel with them, the distance killed him, and she knew it. Something kept her from him, but she returned one day and said her goodbyes to the friends she didn’t know if she would ever see again. She returned to Alistair and didn’t think of leaving him again.  
She could not stay this way long, she was now commander of the grey, and he a king, so they went on their separate ways. She knew he didn’t want to be king, knew in her heart that it was his greatest fear, and yet now she had been the one to put him on the throne, a part of her felt the guilt swell every time she saw him, Arl Eamon by his side as he sat on the fur laden throne, defeated, tired, confident, telling him what to do, which papers to sign and what people to see. She was not blind to it, and for that she was ashamed. His eyes brightened as she looked at him, she had spent months in Amaranthine, months rebuilding the ranks of the grey in order to come home, to him. He took her in his arms, smelling of smoke and cinder he held her and kissed her ravenously, she smiled and laughed and gently laid her gloved hands on his back as he held her above him in the air, looking as her and studying every nick and scrape on her armour and every light scar that traced her face. Her eyes were dark and weary from travel, and they grew darker still as the guilt of leaving him behind, in their kingdom, their home, alone. He would have told her the same, that he would follow her to the end, but he knew it was a lie and did not. The weeks rolled by, and the warden and her king were at peace, for the first time since they had been eternally bound together they could finally breathe together, and they did not leave each other’s side for a time. He worshipped the ground she walked on, and many people, from different countries even, heard tales of the king and queen’s love for one another.

Scouts sent word that a mage had been spotted, one matching an old friend’s description, and so the once proud and fearless queen left in the night, dressed in dark cloaks and donning her old armor, returning to where her journey so long ago began.  
She found her.   
“Morrigan.” Her eyes were light, golden as a dragon’s, and as she stepped towards the witch of the wilds, her arm reached out for her once friend.  
“Do not come closer. Or you shall never see me again.” The warden, stopped then mid stride, but then took another step towards the dark haired woman.  
“Morrigan.” The warden, tried and true to her word dropped to her knees, the armor clanking against stone as the woman’s tears fell.   
“I searched everywhere for you.” Morrigan took a step closer towards the red haired woman.  
“I told you not to look for me. You were always terrible at following direction. ‘Tis unfortunate.” The warden grasped the cold hand of the mage.   
“Where did you go? I looked everywhere for you. I-I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know if you had died or gotten hurt or sick…” The warden sniveled and sobbed, the younger elf and mage that had accompanied her began to whisper. The dark haired woman trembled slightly as she felt her friend shake against her.   
“I-If you are only worried about the child then h-he’s-!” She had practiced this speech for days, yet all of the words had poured out as if water on glass. The warden hugged the mage.  
Tightly and then as if Morrigan might disappear.  
“I thought you were gone.”   
She went into the mirror, on the brink of tears, and smiling to herself sadly, she went and did not look back.  
The warden touched the flawed glass of the eluvian, but it did not ripple with pools of light, and she turned back.  
She returned to Denerim, morose and empty, but upon entering her home, their home, she found no king upon the throne. She now had to wait for him.  
She waited, and she read, notes upon notes, scroll after scroll, left to her from a friend.   
She studied day and night until her king returned, yet he did not. She did not sleep, only ate bread and drank water, as even cheese would remind her and make her feel a little homesick.  
Many friends would attempt to visit, even Fergus, but it wasn’t until she received word that her husband’s mage advisor had passed did she realize what it was she was saying no to.   
The warden mourned the older woman, a surrogate mother not only to her but to the one she loved. Though it was inevitable, the warden smiled sadly as Wynne could now be at peace.  
The warden sat by the fire and read on. Dragon’s blood carried the taint, not just the archdemon, but all dragons had masses of the taint inside of them. She chuckled at this depressing realization, perhaps that’s why they are so angry all the time.The warden read on, day and night, she spent hours researching every type of information on the taint that she could get her hands on. There had also been another warden, an elf mage, who carried the taint but was somehow removed of it all after giving birth.  
So she began her search for this Fiona, and upon finding her made a stunning realization.  
“It is, uh indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my queen.” The older woman bowed before the warden. Studying her features there was something the warden could not place,  
“Do you know why I sent for you?” The warden was not trusting, there was something about this elf that she could not figure out. The queen folded her arms as she began to study the grand enchanter’s features. Chattering about nothing the warden didn’t already know she realized what it was, and her eyes flashed in understanding.  
“My husband was your child, wasn’t he?” The grand enchanter clenched her fist as she looked the warden in the eye, almost a growl she spoke,  
“I do not know what you are talking about.” The warden placed a hand on the hilt of her knife,  
“You do the same thing he does when he lies, what is there to hide?” Fiona bit her lip, defeated, but refusing to acknowledge it.   
“He isn’t here is he?” The warden relaxed as she felt her chest tighten.  
“No.” The warden felt it then, like a wave of mixed deprived oxygen and sorrow filling her lungs.  
“I never wanted it to be this way. It wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did.” The older woman did not break eye contact as she spoke through gritted teeth.  
“He was never supposed to exist.” The warden felt a sharp pain in her chest then, as if Fiona’s words were a knife piercing her heart.   
“All he’s ever wanted was a family.” She muttered in a hush tone. Fiona gasped as she realized what she herself had said.  
“N-No! That isn’t what I meant I-” The warden, melancholy from her own realization settling in, held up her hands in defeat.   
“As your queen, I command you to leave.” Fiona took a step forward, her eyes bright and fervently studying the queen with desperation.   
“Please, just go.” Fiona turned away then.   
“He has you. And I will thank The Maker every day I breathe for that.”  
She left then, and the warden did not speak.  
Weeks passed.   
Much like before, the king strode into the throne room, eyes brightly lit up the second he saw her. She ran and collapsed onto the floor, taking him with her as she cried and laughed along with him. She shivered slightly as she held him.  
“You look so old!” The king forced a laugh as he smoothed over her hair with his hand, wanting to melt into her body, he buried his face into her shoulder taking in her scent and the feeling of her against his body. His newly grown beard was different, a sign of his ageing. A familiar groan caused the warden to be taken aback.   
“Sten?” The qunari warlord groaned once more.  
“It is Arishok now, Kadan.” The warden smiled for the first time in months then. A true and genuine smile. Isabella then joined the group, as well as a handsome dwarf.  
They all shared each other’s company for a time before each of them left, Sten, now the Arishok was the first to go,then Isabella, after Alistair had given her a ship and a crew along with it. Varric stayed with them for a time, in part to an injury he sustained while on his journey with Alistair, and in part to being in the middle of writing a novel. Varric left only when he received word that he was needed back in Kirkwall. So then the king and queen were left alone, finally, to spend the rest of their days in happiness.  
As the warden lay in bed she studied her husband’s face. Many new scars dotted his face like thin hairs that wouldn’t come off of his cheeks. His eyes were worn and dark, even asleep the man looked as if he were locked in battle with raging darkspawn. She pushed a few of his stray hairs back, she noticed it had gotten longer in the time he had been away. She placed a warm hand on his pale cheek as he slept. It had began to rain outside and she heard it pound the stone of the castle walls. He had told her everything, about his father, what he had been through, and now he simply lay there sleeping beside her.  
She knew what she had to do and so, silently, she placed a kiss on his worn chapped lips, his stubble course against her chin. She sat up in bed, her eyes a newly ignited fire as she trembled to her feet. She readied herself in the night as the fire crackled and sizzled in the hearth, She now wore his armor and though she was no warrior she mounted the battle worn shield of Duncan onto her back. She stood beside the bed, watching as her husband slept soundly in the darkness. She wiped her eyes, and stifled an escaped sob, thunder cracked and lightning whipped outside. Zevran, donned in black cloaks dripping with rainwater, appeared in the doorway, a signal to leave. Pulling on the familiar griffon wing helmet, the Warden left in the night.   
And did not look back.


End file.
